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This poem is taken from PN Review 21, Volume 8 Number 1, September - October 1981.

Night Fishers Charles Tomlinson

After the autumn storms, we chose a night
  To fish the bay. The catch
I scarcely recollect. It was the climb,
  The grasp at slipping rock unnerved
All thought, thrust out of time
  And into now the sharp original fear
That mastered me then. I do not think
  I ever looked so far down into space
...


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